


cockroaches

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, One-Sided Attraction, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Fantasy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He covers his eyes with his clean hand and feels like he’s going to vomit.





	cockroaches

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this takes place in canonverse, except the connection thing on the roof happens much sooner and markus and north don't become boyfriend and girlfriend after sharing traumatic experiences because in my honest opinion it's bullshit
> 
> wow, can't believe my dumb ass is uploading something with PLOT

_i am naked and there is a cock down my throat, and everything is a blur of use and giving and giving and giving, and there is something inside of my throat that’s stuck and choking and it’s not cum or a moan and i can’t and there’s flesh beneath my hands i am naked and i am crying and i am i am i feel sic--_

Markus flinches and pulls back. Back into snow. He’s finally back, alone with North on the roof. He’s a little dizzy, and North is standing in front of him, plump and pretty and haunted. He’s very far away. Blink once, twice.

‘I saw your memories,’ says North, voice like a gasp. ‘Carl’s house, when he left you for dead in his studio…’

He opens his mouth, and he can still feel it, the permanent stain of cum and hatred in his throat. It crawls in his throat like an insect.

‘I saw your memories too. The Eden club. The death of that man, I felt like I was there with you.’

He steps forward, and forward. North inhales like she’s sinned, regret painting her face. The Eden club. Two hour memory wipe policy. But the body never forgets. Always filthy. Always wary.

Markus opens his mouth and North runs away.

\---

The first time he feels it is three months after that incident. They’re on a mission, and North spots a human.

‘There’s one over there!’ she nearly shouts, and Markus hushes her hurriedly.

‘Fuck,’ she whispers, husky and near animalistic. Markus feels a sweet warm coiling in his belly, dripping down to his groin.

Markus bites his lip and thinks: oh no.

\---

For something with such a grand name, Jericho is a shithole. It reeks of rot and rust and sewer shit, but as Simon says, all Markus can do is deal with it. As deviant leader extraordinaire (Markus’ lip curls) he gets his own office, which is a leftover bedroom. The floor creaks and the walls are rotting.

After the mission, Markus retreats into his office (I need to plan the next mission, he says) and sits on the ratty bed.

(sweet warm, coiling in his belly)

Markus’ face flushes, and he feels… aroused. Don’t think of North. The lock on the door is rusted and stuck, so he stands up (the floor creaks) and pushes a chair against the door. Sit back down on the bed again. His breath is coming a little faster already, which is good, because he wants to get this over as soon as possible.

Markus tugs his pants and underwear down, just enough to expose his cock to the cold air. Shiver. He takes himself in a cold, dry hand. It’s painful. He spits in his palm, and the next time he puts his hand around his dick it’s much more comfortable.

He strokes down, and his breath comes in a huff. Soon he’s trembling and his cock is absolutely weeping in his hand. He swipes his thumb over the slit of his member and twists his wrist and moans helplessly, but it’s not enough. He just needs a little bit more, just a bit--

He thinks of a voice, wrapping husky around one word, and finally cums in his hand.

It’s one of the most intense orgasms he’s had in a while. He shivers in the aftershocks, but once it’s over and the ejaculate is cooling in his fist he thinks about what he’s done.

North. It was the thought of North that pushed him over the edge. His orgasm felt good, but now the memory of it just aches in his chest. Guilt, he identifies.

North, North, North. North, sullied by men and women who did nothing but did nothing but milk her for their pleasure, and now Markus has done the same. He’s violated her trust and he knows.

He covers his eyes with his clean hand and feels like he’s going to vomit.

\---

It’s not difficult to continue being friends with North. After all, their friendship was built on their mutual goal and complementing personalities, and even with the undertones of attraction (that buzzes in the back of his head, incessant) the foundation has stayed stable. Nothing changes except he never looks at her below the face; it’s only moral, he reasons with himself. He’s not a human, but she should never be subjected to the sexual gaze ever again if she doesn’t want it -- not from androids or humans alike.

The next time they’re alone together is when Simon finds a deck of cards somewhere in Jericho. It’s missing some cards and the ones that are left are either torn or faded, so Simon gives it to North. Markus and North sit across each other, cross-legged on crates. Gin rummy. North claims to be the best at it in Jericho, which is bullshit, because gin rummy depended largely on chance. When he pointed it out, North huffed, offended, and challenged him to a game.

So now he’s here, staring at his cards. His cards, yes. He’d forgotten to take into account that card games meant looking down. Which is a problem, because his eyes wander. The cards.

North announces his turn with unnecessary flourish. Markus focuses on his hand. He’s almost got a run, but he takes a new card and it’s not the one he needs. He sighs defeatedly and discards another card. His eyes never leave his hand.

‘Concentrated, aren’t you.’ says North. He can hear the triumph in her voice as her fingers (long, dexterous and always restless, he’s seen them on the trigger of a gun but they’re still perfect and wonderful) picks up the card he’s just discarded and slam a set down onto the crate between them. She’s won for the fifth time in a row.

‘Admit it. Admit defeat.’ Markus’ throat is awfully dry. His eyes flick up but they linger on her collarbones.

He swallows, but his voice is still a croak.

‘You win.’

\---

Sometimes, Markus replays the memory in his head. The more he immerses himself in it the more details he can make out. The man. He’s moaning someone else’s name as he shoves himself down his-- North’s throat. The neon light stings in the corner of his eyes. The dread that pools in the pit of his stomach instead of arousal. The familiarity. The familiarity? How many times has this happened?

Deliberate and deliberate. The memory makes him feel dizzy and sick. It feels oddly large, but he can’t pinpoint why.

It’s like looking at a cockroach and knowing there are many more running behind the walls.

Markus sees one in his room one night and thinks about the thousands of them he cannot see.

\---

He lets himself get too careless. He looks too often. He moans too loud. Markus, Markus, the sleazy old man. He’s disgusting. Filthy. He knows what North has been through and he still dares let himself… get off to the thought of her!

North is not blind, and he knows. She corners him one day and looks him straight in the eye. It burns.

‘Are you,’ and North leaves the question unfinished. It hangs between them.

Markus looks away and flushes in shame. There’s something inside his throat that’s stuck and choking and he finally recognises it, it’s hatred and disgust for himself, and North looks away.

They’re never alone together again.

**Author's Note:**

> why do i try


End file.
